A Daddy Story
by RainKrystal
Summary: America tells his kids a "Daddy Story;" whether he wants to or not. The American Revolution, eventually.
1. That One

**Warning: **OCs contained within.  
**Diclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Note:** This and the second chapter are on the short side, but it increases sharply in length after that.

* * *

"Tell us a story." One of the little girl says insistently as her "father" tucks her and her "sister" gently into their beds.

_America chuckles at the little States as he asks the girls, "What kind of story?" He goes to the bookshelf by the wall, ready to pick out the well thumbed copy of the picture book they've made him read every night for the last month. "Let me guess;" He says with his trademarked grin, "You want this one, right?" He selects the small book from the shelf, teasing; "I bet you know all the words to it by heart now."_

California shakes her head. "Nu-uh. We want a different story."

America replaces the book on the shelf, then turns to look at his adopted children. "Like what?"

"We want a Daddy story." Nevada says with a smile.

America chuckles again. "You don't want a 'Daddy' story. You want a story about heroes, or knights, or dragons. Or something." He finishes lamely as California's large blue eyes lock on his pleadingly. _'I'm going to lose this one aren't I…' _He thinks.

California is quite stubborn for such a young State; maybe it's because she had fended for herself and her sisters for a few years before America had adopted the three of them from the young couple that had been raising them. California was an independent Nation for a short while and the couple that had found her already had children of their own. Raising another child who had suddenly appeared one day on their door had not been too difficult for them, despite how she seemed to age slower than their own children.

When America had arrived in the West during his war with Mexico, he had been drawn to the presence of the three small children who seemed to be ever-present around a certain family of the newly independent Nation. He had recognized her as what she was immediately of course; all Nations know when they find one of their own kind or similar. After having raised thirty other States before California and her two younger sisters, America was having less and less difficulty in knowing where to look for the young things if they didn't find him first, or simply appear on his doorstep like the first thirteen had.

He is surprised when California and Nevada then relent, and instead of pressing the issue of being told "a daddy story" like he thought they would, California says instead; "Okay. I want that one." She points to a heavily bound book on the shelf, and America lifts is up. He blows the dust off the cover, and as he reads the title his heart sinks. "The American Revolution" it reads.

"Girls, are you sure you want this one?" America asks, frantically trying to think his way out of the situation. "There are better stories;" He stops short as Nevada shakes her blond head.

"We want that one." She tells him resolutely. _'Damn.'_ America thinks. He's definitely lost this one. _'At least Arizona and the others are already out cold.'_

_States one, Hero zip._


	2. Aw, Nuts

**Warning: **OCs contained within.  
**Diclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Note:** This chapter is still on the short side, but after this it picks up in length, I promise.

* * *

America sits himself down on the wooden chair between Nevada and California's beds, and rests the heavy book on his lap as he begins to tell them a story, as per request. Well, more or less. "Okay, so once upon a time, there was a beautiful, perfect, shiny happy place called Eagleland, which was ruled by an awesome, super-smart hero who fought bad guys all day, and was loved by everyone." America hurries through the childish and heavily edited version of the history text on his lap, still trying to worm his way out of this one as fast as he possibly can.

"Everything was great in Eagleland, and would've stayed that way forever, except for the evil king of Meanbritland who owned the awesome country of Eagleland. The king of Meanbritland was an evil, nasty foreigner who only wanted to be 'proper;'" America makes little air quotes around the word, causing Nevada to giggle. "And to drink tea all the time. No one in Eagleland liked him because he always made the taxes too high. And the people were like; 'No taxes without representation, man.' and the mean king was all; 'I can make y'all stupid gits do whatever I want 'cause I'm mean and stuff, so nyeh.'" America sticks out his tongue for emphasis as Nevada giggles louder at his antics.

Somewhere across the Atlantic, England sneezes in his sleep.

"So the hero told the evil king;" America continues with his "history" if it could even be called that at this point. "'Hey man, I'm in charge over here, and just so ya know, nobody really likes you and your smelly taxes. Or your tea.'" He adds as an afterthought. _'Seriously, tea is like, really, really nasty.'_

"But the evil king didn't care what the hero wanted, even though the hero had already been nothing but nice to the king of Meanbritland, and done all sorts of stuff for him, like fighting a war. So one night, the hero decided enough was enough and dumped all the tea into the harbor with a bunch of his friends." _'That was fun, actually.'_ America reminisces silently._ 'Felt kind of stupid dressing up like that, though. But it was still fun.'_

"This made the evil king of Meanbritland get really mad, and the hero and his friends all laughed as the king jumped up and down because he was so mad." America mimes an angry face, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his eyes. Nevada laughs again as her "daddy" keeps telling the ludicrous story.

"Then the hero and his super awesome army of Eagleland fought all the soldiers of Meanbritland, and kicked them out for good. And everybody was like; 'Yeah, man! This new country is gonna be all awesome and stuff! We rock!' And the hero of Eagleland saw how awesome everything was, and they all lived happily ever after the end." America finishes the story hastily, and Nevada claps her hands happily at the ending.

"Yay for the hero!" She cheers, and America ruffles her blond hair fondly as he rushes to go put the unopened book back on the shelf. _'That was close.'_ He thinks with relief. He probably shouldn't have jinxed it, since just as America is about to place the book down on the shelf, California speaks up for the first time after being silent throughout the whole extremely version of America's story.

"Wait Daddy." America stops, the book hovering over its place on the shelf. _'Aw nuts,' _he thinks ruefully. _'And that one almost worked, too.' _America turns back around to look at the serious little girl in the bed.

"Yeah Cali? What's up?" He asks hopefully. _'Please don't make me pick the book back up…'_

California fixes him with a stern look as she says; "If you're going to tell us the story, you should tell it right." America sighs inwardly, and picks the book back off the shelf, moving to go back to the chair by the beds.

_States two, hero zip._

**Author's Note:** I had entirely too much fun writing this chapter and the bastardized version of America's history. Thanks for reading!


	3. The Plan And Capital Letters

**Warning: **OCs contained within.  
**Diclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Note:** I promised longer and you guys got a longer chapter. Clocking in at 3,073 words, this is the longest single chapter I've ever uploaded for anything. Enjoy your story!

* * *

America pauses for a moment as he feels the weight of the book in his hand. He sighs quietly to himself in resignation before he puts his weighty history back on the shelf. There's no reason for him to read from the text; he lived the "story" in its pages and there's no way he'll ever forget it. He finally turns back to his "daughters" and carefully sits himself back down between the two young States, positioning himself on the chair so that he can face both of them at in between their beds.

"All right." America at last announces to them as he settles into the uncomfortable wooden chair as best he can; "If I'm going to tell this story, we're going to have to start at the beginning." America informs them. "And it's a long one too, so you girls might not be able to stay awake for the whole thing." _'Maybe if this lasts long enough, they'll fall asleep on their own.'_

California shakes her head resolutely. "We can do it," she tells her "father" seriously. "Can't we, Nevada?" She asks her sister for confirmation.

Nevada nods eagerly in response, practically bouncing out of her seat in her bed out of excitement. "Yeah! You can count on us, Dad! We can do it!" America makes an expression somewhere between a grin and a grimace at the title of "Dad." No matter how many times the States call him that, he always finds himself protesting internally; _'I'm too young to be anybody's father.'_ He can never quite bring himself to scold or correct the States on their terminology when they're still so small.

"Once upon a time," America begins settling as best he can on the hard wooden chair; "Once upon a time, there was a hero-"

"Can his name be John?" California interrupts with a happy smile.

America startles at the question before slowly responding. "Ummm, okay…" California looks up at him pleadingly and he continues, albeit feeling slightly confused. He doesn't protest though. The interruptions are all a part of the Plan. The capital letter and its distinction are important. "Sure, why not?"

The little State smiles happily at him while Nevada gives her sister an inquisitive look. "Why John?" She asks California.

The other State shrugs; "John is a good name for a hero."

America contemplates this for a moment; _'I prefer George for a hero, myself,'_ before continuing with his story. "Once upon a time, there was a hero named, uh, John," California nods in approval at him, so America carries on; "who lived with his twin brother-"

California interrupts again happily announcing that the brother's name was "Kit!" America takes the name in stride, nodding at the little girl in the wooden twin bed.

"John lived with his twin brother, Kit and their mother in a wide open land." He pauses tentatively, waiting for California to interrupt again -possibly to give a name to the mother in the story- but unfortunately the State and the Territory says nothing.

America picks up back into the narrative. "The lands were covered in mountains and prairies as far as the eye could see, ranging from sea to sea." America remembers the lands of when he was little, playing in the sun while he ranged over the lands that his mother had said would one day be his. The sky back then had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and even today the sky still holds majesty for him. _'Maybe one say I'll learn how to fly. That'd be really awesome.'_ America muses to himself before he continues. "They spent a lot of time together, the two twins. They were always playing and laughing while their mother was very careful to watch over them, making sure her sons never got themselves into danger." America settles into the story comfortably, remembering being little with a faint smile playing around his lips. Canada and he had always had the most amazing adventures when they were little.

"John was always exploring whenever he could, traveling as far as his mother would let him across the land over mountains and rivers and plains with the help of his twin. Kit had never liked the adventuring very much, but he put up with it because his twin was awesome." America's smile turns into a full-blown grin as he remembers some of the stupider things he had dragged Canada into when they were children. _'Who knew that beavers could get so scary when you break their dam? I mean, it was an accident…'_

"What kind of adventures did they go on?" Nevada asks breathlessly, dragging America back out of his memories and the story with the firm tug of curiosity in her voice to derail his train of thought completely.

"Huh?" America blinks a few times, shaking his head in order to clear it. "What'cha say?" America asks his "daughter."

"I said; what kind of adventures did they go on?" Nevada asks again, her blue eyes going wide. _'They're going to pop out of her head at some point if she keeps doing that.'_ America muses in slight amazement.

"Uh…" The Nation tries to continue, wracking his brain for a good misadventure that he had gone on with Canada when they were little. The Plan requires that he stall for time as long as possible. "They went on all sorts of adventures, like-"

"Were there pirates?" Nevada bursts out excitedly, stopping America dead in his tracks once again. _'Pirates?' _He thinks, utterly stumped by her imagination. _'The hell?' _Nevada couldn't have surprised him more if she'd "moon whales."_ 'Though those would still be pretty cool.'_

"Stupid." California glares at her sister; "Why would there be a pirate in the story?"

"Well, pirates are all cool and stuff and I think they're awesome and-" Nevada tries to assert before the larger State overrides her with a retort of her own and the squabble is beginning to get more and more vehement as the two States start to drag cowboys and soldiers into the mess.

Afraid that they're going to wake up Arizona who's dead asleep in the adjacent bed, America clears his throat. "You know," he says nonchalantly while the State and the Territory snap their attention back to their adopted father. "There actually _is_ a pirate in the story, even though he comes later." Well, technically England hasn't been a pirate since before he met America, but that doesn't matter. He has very little doubt any more that England could have definitely given Spain just cause to be afraid of him. America rubs absently at his chest, running his fingers up against the burn scars over his heart as the two little girls turn sharply to look at him.

Turning his head to the side nonchalantly, America watches Nevada out of the corner of his eye as she yells in triumph, pointing dramatically at California. "I told you so!" She says childishly, sticking her tongue out at her sister.

This has the potential to turn into a fight of the kind that are really funny to watch in the beginning and a pain in the ass to sort out later from what he's seeing. California's eyes are starting to glint slightly, and America has no doubt that if he leaves the two girls alone for much longer, they're going to start pulling each others' hair out by the roots. So America clears his throat again, trying to take back the hijacked narrative as best he can.

"Anyway, one day…" _'Crap.'_ America pauses as he realizes where the story is going as soon as the phrase trails off in his mouth. _'The Plan is supposed to prevent us from even getting to stuff like this!'_ But it doesn't matter. Now that he has the girls' attention again, it's going to be hard to get them to go back to bickering again, even if he wanted to restart the fight he's seemed to have succeeded in stopping. Unlike some of the other States that America's raised, these two don't have really an easy rivalry to provoke, or at least they don't _ye_t. Which is yet another fine distinction.

America's pretty good at reading his "children;" after all, they're part of him, so it figures that he always has a good idea of what they'll be like later on down the road. They have a feel to them, similar to the way Nations know each other; feelings and smells and habits that belie the fact that they're all a little bit more than human. They are Empires and Principalities and now they are States as well, popping up all across the maps for as long as their have been peoples and lands that they could call theirs. And sometimes, they leave the world as their people stop being a power. But that's philosophy, and definitely not something America ever thinks about. At least, not very often.

"One day… John's mother disappeared without warning." He says quietly.

California turns away from glaring at Nevada to look at America curiously. "What do you mean; disappeared? What happened to her?" She asks intently.

America shrugs a little as his heart twinges painfully. He didn't want to tell this story. He never wants to tell this story. "I dunno." He tells California, feigning indifference. "She was just…" America searches for the right word, fumbling for the right thing to say. "Gone." Is what he eventually settles for. "One day she was just, gone." _'Canada was so scared…' _America tries to clamp down on the voice that reminds him that he was terrified as well when it had happened.

"John and Kit woke up one morning and they were all alone, except for each other." America says simply, trying to mince his words. He's confident that the sadness won't leak out into his voice, after all, if there's one thing that America's learned nothing from politics, it's how to hide your feelings. If there's two things, that he's learned from watching his politicians in action, it's how to hide exactly how much he's learned from watching his politicians; how to hide a gun behind a smile and to be so blunt that people never suspect the half-truths. America learned how to be underestimated.

"Nu-uh." California says resolutely, shaking her head. America frowns in confusion as California interrupts his annoyingly morbid thoughts with such an enigmatic refusal. Seeing his expression, the State elaborates on her position a little bit stating simply that; "Their mother wouldn't have just _left_ them." She asserts. "Families don't just leave each other for no reason." California closes her eyes and recites that "_Familia es familia._" America's confused expression still doesn't leave his face, so California translates for him. "It means "family is family." It's something that Texas used to say, back when we were all living with Mexico. It's our _código para vivir por_." California says emphatically. "Our code to live by."

America nods speechlessly to California's vehemence. "That's a good code." He tells her proudly, shaking the rest of his dark thoughts out of his head. "It's the kind of thing that all heroes should have." _'Sounds kind of like mine. Except in Spanish.'_ He remarks to himself. _'Still doesn't have the same ring as "E Pluribus Unum," though.' _America thinks with a mental shrug.

It seems that the Plan is beginning to take effect as Nevada mumbles something quietly. "Dad?" Nevada says a little louder and this time he hears her, even though she' using the softest tone America's ever heard her use since… Since he met her, most likely. Quiet tones always mean that they're getting tired. Unless he's dealing with Virginia, who gets quiet when she's angry. But Virginia moved out a long time ago, so that's a useless thought.

"You wouldn't leave us alone like that, would you?" Nevada says shakily.

America startles out of his thoughts to look at his adopted daughter, finding with shock that's she sniffling a little bit. Her head is downcast, staring at the heavy comforters that were handmade to block out the night's chill air, hands twisting into the fabric.

"Ah…" He tries to say something, but this new direction Nevada seems to be going in causes the words to die in his mouth.

"Because… Because I don't want to be alone…" Nevada continues. _'How did this go downhill so quickly?'_ America thinks frantically, trying to gather his wits._ 'Normally the Plan doesn't end in tears!'_ The States _are_ supposed to get tired, but he didn't know that Nevada would end up being this teary when she finally got sleepy.

America stands up from the chair, moving over to where Nevada is, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Hey…" He says quietly, pulling the little State close to him for a hug. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere." Nevada nods into his shirt, which America can already feel getting wet. "I promise; I still have stuff to do before I go anywhere." He says to her softly. "On top of that, your sisters would never leave you alone, they care too much. Besides;" America tells the little girl; "It's like California said; family is family."

America glances at California from the corner of his eye to find that she's starting to sniff as well. "You too." He tells the larger State. "Come get your hero hug, too." California just wriggles deeper under her covers, trying to turn away from him. _'I wish she wasn't so serious all the time…'_ Ignoring her failed attempt to be stoic, America just reaches an arm out to grab her, pulling the older sister close to him with ease due to his brute strength. "Come 'ere, you."

America cradles his two adopted daughters in his arms as best he can, though he's had practice calming down tired States after having to do so with roughly thirty. Still, he always finds himself mostly at a loss when confronted with small, crying children. It makes his heart ache. Especially when he can't do anything about it, because then it turns into the kind of heart ache that makes him want to uproot a tree. _'Which is bad for the forests.'_ America reminds himself for the umpteenth time. He rocks back and forth slightly, holding one girl in the crook of each arm, waiting for the two of them to fall asleep once they've finished their cry.

A few minutes later, America looks down to find California with a thumb in her mouth and Nevada drooling all over his arm. He sighs quietly to himself with a slight, tired smile. America knew that there was no way they'd have made the entire night without getting here eventually, no matter how much they'd originally protested when he'd started the story. _'That's the trick with kids;'_ America thinks to himself, _'you tire them out and eventually they deteriorate and pass out.'_ The Plan is a technique that he learned and battle tested through trial and error from dealing with an extremely hyperactive New York. The less said about that particular point in history and its unique headaches, the better. _'Maybe it'll be a story for another day, if they keep asking for stories like this…'_

America moves himself carefully so as not to disturb the two sleeping little girls, first putting California back into her bed, pulling the sheets over her with his one free hand as he holds Nevada in the other. California rolls over once, settling back into sleep before America chuckles a little bit; her thumbs is still in her mouth. He turns around to face the other bed, pulling back the covers much easier this time now that he has a hand free. Gently, he lowers Nevada down, then covers his thumb with his shirt to wipe her face, trying to rub off the tears and the spit and all the other general ick that comes with crying children.

Just as he's about to take his thumb back, Nevada's hand shoots out to grab it. Her eyes are half-opened in sleep as she asks again; "You wouldn't leave us, would you, Dad?"

America chuckles again, pulling his thumb out of her grasp so he can take her smaller hand in his calloused larger one. "Never." He assures her. "Not for any reason, not ever. Heroes never leave their families behind."

"You promise?" Nevada asks him plaintively, little tones of disbelief coloring her voice.

"I promise." America says softly, squeezing her hand gently in confirmation. "And heroes never break their promises, either, you know."

"Good." Nevada says as her eyes flutter shut again, her words beginning to slur as they trail off. "'Cause I dun wanna be alone…" With that, the little girl is asleep.

America yawns and stretches, the bones in his back creaking slightly from being stooped over for so long before they pop back into place. Hopefully he won't have to revisit this one, but he thinks he's in the clear. _'The Plan hasn't failed me yet.'_ America thinks grandly as he tries to make his way towards his bedroom as quietly as he can in order to avoid waking up any of the other States and Territories that are staying with him currently.

He passes by each room in turn, checking to see that the rest are still asleep, pausing to readjust his new glasses as he stops by Texas's room. The new State will be able to live on his own soon, despite the fact that he'd been doing so for about ten years before America had found and annexed him. _'Kid's got a vicious right hook.'_ America rubs his jaw in remembrance of that fight. _'Had me seeing stars for weeks.' _Still, Texas had chosen to spend time in America's house with far less fighting after he had reunited him with his little brother, New Mexico. America spares a glance for the sleeping ex-Republic; his hat precious hat is sitting on the table by the bed, next to his horn rim glasses.

Finally, America finishes his rounds through the D.C. house and settles into his own bed. He puts his glasses on the nightstand and shucks off his clothes, replacing them with the red white and blue flannel pants he sleeps in. Sleep is almost immediate after that. America dreams of Adventures, and of Family. After all, the capital letters are important.

_States two, hero one._


	4. Mischeif Managed

**Warning: **OCs contained within.  
**Diclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Note:** I figured this story could use a return to family fluff especially since that last chapter was so heavy. It's only going to get sadder from there; England and the rest of Europe hadn't even gotten to the "New World" when America left off last chapter. We have to get all the way to the America Revolution!

* * *

It would be nice to say that the next morning, America was woken up gently to find morning sun peeking in through his curtains and the sound of birdsong filtering through the wooden walls of the D.C. house. Unfortunately, it would also be a lie to say so.

"Wake up!" A small, shrill voice shouts in America's ear. "Wake up!" Some solid object that feels uncannily like the knees of a child collides with America's stomach and he groans as the air rushes out of his lungs with a huff. It's too early in the morning for this. _'Or at least it feels like it.' _"Wake up, America!" The little voice says forcefully, a hint of a whine creeping into its tone. "It's morning already! The sun is shining!"

America groans in response, grabbing vainly at the offending weight on his chest, cracking open a bleary eye to spot a blur that vaguely reminds him of Arizona. "Wha…?" He slurs sleepily, the blur taking his hands and tugging impatiently.

America arches his back beneath the weight on his chest, his strength making it easier than it would be for a normal person. The load there giggles happily. "Good morning." It says brightly. America just groans again and as he moves, the vertebrae in his back pop and grind into place. "That sounds funny." The thing notes and America imagines a wrinkling nose on the face he can't see.

He never really noticed how nearsighted he had been until Texas had given him the glasses he took from Mexico. _'Said he ripped 'em right off Mexico's face.'_ America remembers in wonder. _'Kid's a menace.'_ He doesn't remember having been quite so nearsighted when he was younger, so it's odd that he needs the glasses so badly now. _'Maybe my eyes just got worse as time went on?'_

'_Speaking of,'_ America thinks groggily;_ 'where are they anyway…?'_ He pats his hand blindly against the side table where he left them last night. After almost knocking over the table, America's hand eventually connects with what he's looking for with tired trial and error; a pair of half-rimmed glasses. He rubs his eyes with one hand, wiping the leftover sleep away while he yawns hugely, his jaw dropping low to accommodate the silent gesture. The blur on his chest giggles again. "Wake up." It says repeats, though quieter than before. _'They're not shouting anymore, so that's good.' _America thinks to himself.

"I'm going, I'm going." He grumbles reluctantly, jamming the glasses onto his face haphazardly. As the frames slide into place, clarity does as well, revealing that the blur is in reality Arizona. The little dirty-blonde smiles at him. As things come into focus, America confirms that it is Arizona that's sitting on top of him with a slight pout of impatience.

"Are your sisters up yet?" He asks her tiredly, his mind trying to come into focus along with his eyes. Right now his vision is still clearer than his though process. America always used to think that he was a morning person until his morning had extended to come to mean _early_ mornings. _'If I can't see the sun, it isn't morning yet.'_ Unfortunately for him, this is not something that the States prescribed to.

Arizona shakes her head. "Nu-uh. I tried to wake them up, but none of them wanted to play with me." She pouts indignantly. "Nevada just shoved me out of the way and rolled over again."

"That wasn't very nice of her." America tells her, his thoughts finally beginning to get back into some semblance of order. _'What time is it?'_ Looking to the window, the sun is at the very least shining already, so that's a good sign that Arizona hasn't gotten him up at _too_ much of an ungodly hour.

"My sisters are big meanies." She affirms huffily, crossing her little arms across her chest.

"Come on, you." America says, sitting up straight, causing Arizona to tumble backwards off of him into a heap at the edge of his bed. He gets out of the bed, picking the little Territory up and lifting her down onto the ground where she takes his hand. America walks her out of the room, glancing at the grandfather clock in the room. _'Eight isn't _too_ early, I guess.'_ He thinks to himself. _'I would've been up around now anyway. Probably.' _"Let's go get some breakfast." He says to Arizona with a smile, looking down at the little girl as they exit the house's master bedroom. "How do eggs and bacon sound?" America asks her.

"I like bacon!" She says happily, though a little too loudly. _'She's going to wake the rest of them up if she keeps doing that…'_

America shushes her slightly with a small smile. "You don't want to wake them up just yet, okay?" He says in a stage whisper. "Let's make breakfast first."

Arizona nods at America, taking in the suggestion and the false whisper solemnly. "Okay." She whispers hoarsely. The pair of them tiptoe elaborately down the hallway, being extra stealthy when they approach any room that has sleeping States or Territories in it. The door to Texas's room is still open and America peers in for a moment to confirm that the rambunctious former Republic is snoring softly, hands splayed out across the covers. If America plays his cards right, he figures he can keep the rest of them asleep. _'Excellent.'_

Once they reach the kitchen, America informs Arizona that she can talk again by starting the process of making breakfast. "Okay, can you go get the eggs and the pork from the icebox?" He asks her. "I'll go get the water if you'll do that much." Arizona nods eagerly, running over to the icebox in the corner while America picks up a skillet from the rack by the small basin in the counter. Taking the skillet, some soap and the water bucket, he heads out to the pump in the yard to get the water they'll need and to wash the skillet along with his hands. America might not have the world's greatest sense of taste, but he at least knows his basic cooking hygiene.

When he returns to the kitchen, America is met by Arizona, the little Territory beaming proudly. "I got the eggs!" She's holding a handful of eggs in her hands, her eyes closed as she smiles. _'That's so adorable…'_ America's heart melts a little bit. It's the little things like this that make him glad to be a parent. _'Except I'm not a parent.'_ He reminds himself hastily. _'I'm not old enough to be anybody's parent.'_ Still, Arizona is being incredibly cute and America ruffles her dirty blond hair while she beams.

"Nice job." He tells her proudly, watching as her smile widens. "Where's the pork?" He asks her in mild confusion.

Arizona's smile shrinks slightly and she blushes in embarrassment. "Oops…" She says quietly; "I'll go get it." America chuckles as the Territory scampers off towards the icebox again. Turning back to the counter, he lights a small fire on the stove using a match from the set he keeps in the kitchen and places the skillet on the flame.

After that, breakfast comes together rather handily in a large spread, Arizona running about at America's direction while the two of them make eggs and bacon for nine people. Well, with the meal they're preparing it looks more like they're trying to feed a small army. Though is mostly understandable when you take into account that they're also trying to feed America and Texas on top of seven other people. America glances over the sizzling pork happily before turning to watch Arizona carefully crack the eggs over the skillet. _'…We might need more eggs…'_ He thinks with a growling stomach. _'Nah, never mind. I'll check the coop later. We'll just eat slightly less today.'_ America resolves. _'Weird, I never thought I'd say that.' _It's an odd feeling, as if he's being somehow out of character. He shrugs.

America finishes making breakfast with his youngest "daughter," putting the scrambled eggs on the plates that Arizona has set out on the counter. Next he loads up the bacon then the bread that he toasted while the bacon had been cooking. "Arizona," America turns to the little girl asking her "what kind of jam do you want with the toast today?"

Arizona doesn't even pause to think as she happily blurts out that "I want oranges!"

America chuckles. "All right." He says, wiping his greasy hands on his pajama pants; "It's up on the high shelf in the pantry." With that, he reaches down and lifts Arizona up into the air as the walks to the pantry. Holding her above his head so she can get at the shelf, America calls out; "Do you have it?"

"Yeah!" Arizona affirms.

"Okay," America says, "I'm gonna bring you down now; hold on to that jar tight, now." America lowers the Territory down gently and as she touches down on the floor Arizona holds the jar of preserved oranges close to her chest like a treasure. After that, the two of them work at setting the table, bringing food and utensils from the kitchen to the wooden table in the dining room. _'I'll get Iowa to clean the kitchen later as part of his chores.'_

Once the table is set, America turns to Arizona with a grin. "So, since we're done now, you know what we do next, right?"

Arizona grins hugely, mischief in her blue eyes. "Do we get to…?"

"Yes." America smiles wickedly in response; "yes we do."

_Game paused on account of breakfast._

**Author's Note:** On the thing about the glasses: it's my personal headcanon that America was nearsighted before he got his glasses. Why? Well America annexed the Republic of Texas as part of something called "Mainfest Destiny" which pretty much meant it was Fate that America was going to someday stretch from sea to shining sea. And they wanted it to happen sooner rather than later. Now, before Manifest Destiny, America's policy was something along the lines of "let's fix stuff over here and mind our own business" because the United States was still trying to get their footing on the world stage. But after Texas was annexed, America suddenly found that the world was a lot bigger than they had really ever cared to notice before. They saw the lands that had been sitting under their nose clearly for the first time, finally looking out in long-term plans and policies. America gained the ability to look ahead and at things that weren't just on his doorstep. Thus, before he got those glasses, he was pretty nearsighted.


	5. Breakfast Showdown

Warning:

OCs contained within.  
Diclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.  
Rating: K+  
Note: It's roughly one a.m., so I apologize for any quality slippage. In other news, I know this is technically not the Revolution, once again. Blame the plotbunnies, not I. Besides, family fluff is adoarble to write. Also, I'm dissapearing for the next seven weeks starting on July 3rd. So whatever I get up before then is what you're stuck with until I come back. Reviews motivate faster writing, so please send them in!

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"So…" America drawls lazily, peering down at Arizona. "Do you want to take the right, or the left?" He asks the Territory who's holding his hand as the they enter the stretch of hallway that holds the bedrooms.

Arizona seems to think it over for a moment before answering; "Left."

"You sure?" He asks her with a raised eyebrow. "The left side has more, uh…" America casts about for the correct word before he settle on; "Course hazards?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Arizona says with a smile of anticipation, dropping her adopted father's hand.

"All right then." America says warily. "If you have trouble, just call for me, okay?" He puffs up his chest theatrically. "'Cause whenever a damsel in distress is in danger, her hero will always come to save her!" He bellows dramatically and Arizona just laughs at him. "What?" He asks in mock dejection, frowning slightly as he puts on the face that Canada always told him made him look like a kicked puppy dog. "I was being serious…"

"I know, Dad." The Territory says as she tries to get a grip on her laughs, making America's frown deepen slightly. "That's what's making me laugh!" Eventually Arizona calms down and she takes a few deep breaths, evening out her breathing rhythm. "Just start the countdown, I want to get started!" She says with some excitement.

"Whatever you say, little lady." America tells her. "Ready…" He starts the countdown and Arizona gets into a crouch in preparation for. "Set…" He watches her out of the corner of the his eye; the little Territory has her own eyes focused intently on the long hallway, her fingers barely touching the wall to her left while her other hand rests on her knee in an athletic stance. _'I love this part of the morning.'_ America thinks, humming happily to himself. "Are you ready?" He asks Arizona teasingly.

"America!" The girl whines unhappily, turning her blue eyes back on him.

The Nation chuckles. "All, right, all right." He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Arizona looks back down the hallway, fixing her stance as she gets back into focus. _'She's gonna be a great runner someday.'_ America thinks. _'Maybe a cowgirl, or something.'_ "Ready…" America begins the countdown again. "Set…" Arizona primes back into her stance for running. "Go!" He shouts and with that, the Territory is on her way.

Arizona bolts down the long hallway, taking the left set of bedrooms and stops hard at the first door she comes to, skidding to a halt, her bare feet making an unpleasant squeaking sound on the wood floor; "Good morning, Texas!" She shouts happily, tearing open the door. America begins to laugh as the ruffian State roars out a stream of angry Spanish, banging around in his room, getting dressed.

Arizona is laughing her own laugh as well, a high pitched tinkling sound while Texas erupts out of the doorway in the process of dragging the second arm through its sleeve on the light, white cotton shirt he's putting on. _"Vuelto aquí, voy a estrangularle, tu-"_

"_¡Buenos días a usted también, hermano mayor Tejas!"_ Arizona calls, skipping out of the cowboy's reach and down the hallway to wrench open the next door on her way while Texas continues to roar angrily. "Good morning, Wisconsin!" She screams, leaping into the room and disappearing from America's field of vision. As he listens, he can hear her switch easily back into Spanish as she calls out to the room's other occupant; _"¡Buenos días, Nuevo México!" _Another round of moaning starts up in that room, as well as an annoyed conversation in Spanish between the New Mexico and Arizona. America starts to laugh as the conversation begins to get more heated and Arizona darts out of the two younger boys' room, expertly ducking a pillow as she does so.

'_I have no idea what they're saying.'_ America notes bemusedly. _'I should really learn Spanish.'_ He's been saying that to himself for decades now without ever finding the time to memorize a few basic phrases like "_amigo,_" or _"Soy el heroe, porfavor no me disparen_

_;"_ so it's not like he's ever going to get there. Taking his assignment on the right side of the hall, America opens his first door of the morning, starting with Iowa's room. "Mornin', bud." He says brightly as the boy in question groans, tumbling out of bed inelegantly, his hair in messy spikes.

"Izzit that time of the morning al- already?" The State yawns, causing America to yawn as well.

"'Fraid so, bud." He tells him, helping the teen set his bed back in order. "Arizona beat y'all to the punch, so she gets to you up." Iowa just groans once again and starts to rummage around in his drawers for clean clothes to wear, grumbling under his breath. America chuckles and exit's the room so his adopted son can get dressed.

As America exit's the room, he almost walks directly into a silent Florida, who would have been his next stop for his side of the hall. _'When did she get there?' _The older State is wearing a light brown dress, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes are half-closed as she grumbles belligerently; _"Territorio estupido despertandonos a todos en la mañana, yo queria hacer eso porque no se pudo quedar dormida hasta mas tard__-"_

"_Hola_, Florida." America greets her, one eyebrow raised in amusement as the State brushes past him with a slight wave of her hand.

"Hello, America." Florida's higher-level English isn't terribly great most of the time, so she usually gets Texas to translate for her. _'Heck, neither is mine.'_ America thinks with a wry grin. _'Or at least that's what England used to say; something along the lines of how I'm "murdering the King's English" or some such.'_

When Florida can't find Texas or one of the other from the Mexican Cession, she sticks to small phrases. Thankfully however, Florida's English is still leagues better than America's Spanish. Between the two of them they manage some level of better understanding. Lately, they've been teaching each other their languages in the hopes of bridging the language barrier. "When did she wake up?" She asks him tiredly, stifling a yawn. "Ah, around eight-ish?" America answers, scratching his head sheepishly. Florida just continues her string of low Spanish so he tries to apologize by way of "We made breakfast?"

The State looks at America warily out of the corner of one blue eye. "Pancakes?" She asks him suspiciously.

"Yeah, on the table." He tells her, going back to the universal sign for surrender. "Bacon too." He adds and Florida's eyes light up and widen as she makes a beeline for the dining room. America adjusts his glasses in relief, closing his eyes as he leans against the wall. _'That was close.'_ He thinks._ 'I could have had to deal with an irritable Florida for the rest of my day.'_

"Help!" America's eyes snap open, casting about the hallway. "Dad, help!"

"Arizona?" He shouts, bounding down the hallway as fast as he ca go, bare feet slapping into the wooden floor beneath him. "Where are you?"

"In here!" America makes a beeline for the source of the sound, dodging around a sleepy Wisconsin who's still holding his stuffed dog toy. Normally America would have taken a moment to gush over how cute his adopted son is being, but right now he's got some heroing to do. _'I knew it was a bad idea to let her take the left side…!'_ He thinks in desperation as he nears his target.

America skids to a stop at the end of the hall, making a sudden left turn at Arizona, Nevada and California's room. As a result of the sharp movement, the rug under in a strip in the center of the hall bunches up under his feet, causing America to frantically run in place for a moment before he runs out of rug and falls flat on his face at the doorway. As a result of the hard fall, all the air rushes out of America's lungs for the second time this morning and the Nation finds himself in a heap tangled up in the rug.

What he finds when he opens his eyes is another sprawling heap made of bodies and cloth on the floor in the form of the three sisters fighting in a tangle of bed sheets. America disentangles himself from the rug as the sisters punch and kick at each other, yelling angrily in an odd mix of Spanish and English. _'What would you call that, even?'_ He wonders absentmindedly. _'Spanglish? It's got a nice ring to it.'_ The Nation bends down to lift up the three girls by the backs of their dresses; Nevada and California in one hand, Arizona in the other.

"What happened here?" America asks sternly as Nevada makes another swipe for Arizona. The younger Territory just sticks her tongue out at her older sisters impishly.

"She started it…" California says sulkily, crossing her arms as she pouts.

"Arizona?" America questions accusingly, trying his best to keep the peace between the three.

The younger Territory makes a face at her sisters. "It's what they get for pushing me out of bed." She says smugly. Nevada growls resentfully at her younger sister, glaring directly at the dirty-blonde.

America sighs. It's only nine a.m. and he can already feel a headache coming on. _'Heroes shouldn't get headaches.'_ "Come on." He says, forcing cheer. "Let's go get breakfast. Me and Arizona made pancakes." California perks up at the mention of pancakes so America adds enticingly; "We got orange preserves to go with them." Nevada gets a hungry look in her eye, so America lowers the three sisters close to the ground, not quite letting them connect with the floor. "All right;" he says warily; "If I put you down now, you have to get dressed, okay?" The three of them nod in turn, so America dutifully lets go. They dash towards their closets and drawers, fishing around for their clothes so America leaves the room and heads for the dining room. _'Crisis averted.'_ He thinks._ 'Score another point for the hero.'_

Once America reaches the dining room, he finds the assembled States and Territories already seated. New Mexico is next to his older brother, head bowed while his mouth moves in some quiet prayer. Texas mirrors his little brother, fidgeting slightly in his seat. Florida is next to Texas in a similar position while Iowa and Wisconsin look up at America as he enters the room. "Ah…" He starts before cutting off. America's never really understood how to deal with his adopted children and their religions. _'Technically, I'm not supposed to deal with them at all.'_ He muses uncomfortably. _'Separation of Church and State and all.'_

The Spanish speakers finish their prayer and look up an America. Arizona, Nevada and California choose this awkward moment to walk in single file, one behind the other, sitting down at the table. America finds his own seat at the head of the table and waits for the States and Territories to finish. Eventually they do and America shakes off his discomfort. "Everybody," He announces full of bravado; "let's dig in!" With that statement, America's family attacks the food with gusto.

America and Texas in particular seem to be in a race for who can eat the most, heaping their plates high with pancakes and eggs. Iowa shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he watches the Nation and the State face off for the title of biggest eater. America plows through another pancake, Arizona sits to his left and loads the orange preserves on top of his plate and California to his left adds some of the maple syrup Canada sent for his birthday last year. To be fair, Texas has New Mexico working hard to keep his plate full as well, the black-haired Territory focused on supplying his brother with foodstuffs as he works through his own stack of pancakes.

As America and Texas finish up the last of their pancakes, their respective helpers sit back and finish their own plates while Iowa and Wisconsin cheer them on, Nevada and Florida arguing in Spanish, seemingly over who's going to win the battle for title of the biggest eater. "You're gonna lose, old man." Texas says around a mouthful of oranges.

"I ain't old," America retorts, swallowing an egg whole; "And I ain't gonna lose." He says with heat. As the two of them reach the bottom of the pancake stack at the center of the table, they reach for the last of the bacon. The other seven people present at the table have already gotten their shares. Unfortunately there _are_ seven other people present at the table; meaning there's only one strip of bacon left. _'I knew we were going t need more bacon…'_

Texas stares down America over the rims of his glasses and the Nation can feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his head. He wipes it off with the side of one arm inelegantly, never taking his eyes off of Texas. The cowboy State smirks cockily at his "father," silently daring him to go for the bacon. "Ooooohh…" Arizona says in a hush, in a tone that children use when one of their friends are about to get in trouble with Authority. California quickly shushes her sister from America's other side. Florida and Nevada's conversation becomes hushed, though no less vehement while Wisconsin hugs his stuffed dog, lovingly named Gena.

The foodstuff shootout ends when America darts forward with his fork, reaching out to spear the bacon. "Wahoo!" He crows in triumph.

"Not so fast, old man." Texas grins maliciously and as America tries to ponder what he means by that, he lifts the fork back towards his own plate. Suddenly, the crispy bacon strip snaps in half under the pressure from the fork. Texas darts forward with his own utensil, eyeing the meat hungrily.

"Not so fast yourself!" America exclaims. "Heroes don't lose after all!" In a display of surprising skill, The Nation spears the two pieces of bacon in a blink of an eye and shoves them into his mouth. "Hah!" He crows in triumph, spraying bacon all over the table.

Texas's grin falls off his face in disbelief while New Mexico tries to console him; "It's okay big brother, you always have tomorrow." The Territory pats his brother on the shoulder hopefully.

Out of the corner of his eye, America sees Florida grumbling lowly as she passes something green that looks suspiciously like money to a smug looking leans back in his chair with relief and stands up, starting to clear the plates. "Hold up there, Iowa." America stops him with a flick of his wrist. The teen looks quizzically at him and America tries not to grin as Texas's eyes widen with recognition. "Texas thought he could challenge the master." America says nonchalantly. "That means he gets to pay the price." America can't stop the grin as the cowboy's forehead hit's the table with a resounding thump type of noise and an accompanying groan muted in the checkered tablecloth.

_States two, hero three._

* * *

**Spanish Translation(s):** Once again, please correct me if I'm wrong. Sorry for the high Spanish content and for the fact that it's probably highly inaccurate. The translations are as follows;  
_Vuelto aquí, voy a estrangularle, tu_: Come back here, I am going to strangle you, you-  
_¡Buenos días a usted también, hermano mayor Tejas!_: Good morning to you too, big brother Texas!  
_¡Buenos días, Nuevo México!_: Good morning, New Mexico!  
_Amigo_: friend  
_Soy el heroe, porfavor no me disparen_: I'm the hero, please don't shoot me.  
_Territorio estupido despertandonos a todos en la mañana, yo queria hacer eso porque no se pudo quedar dormida hasta mas tard_: Okay, this one I'm not sure if I translated correctly, but it was supposed to mean this: "Stupid Territory waking us all up the morning, I wanted to get to do this why couldn't she have just slept late-"  
_Hola_: hello  
**Author's Note: **The whole morning routine thing is a tradition that originated with the first thirteen; whoever got up first helped make breakfast then got to wake everyone else up. So New York and Massachusetts started competing to see who could get up first the most often, eventually culminating in America getting up at truly ungodly hours and the two of them not sleeping at all some nights. The whole church and State is self-explanatory I think, making America rather graceless when it comes to religions that aren't necessarily shared by the majority of his people. And he eventually does get better at Spanish, though it takes him a while.


	6. Promises, Tactics, And Losing Battles

**Warning: **OCs contained within, and if you haven't figured that out by now**  
Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed.**  
Rating:** K+ for family.**  
Note:** I'm terribly, _terribly _sorry about the late update. I am the worst ever. I promise you, this will never be so late again. In other news, I'm a tad proud if the length of this, and I hope that at 4281 words, this was worth the wait. And, there's a bonus at the end, so enjoy!

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That day passed more or less like the days before it, mostly without incident. The sun shone, birds sang and children laughed. And at some point, America found himself tackled by the four youngest in his rapidly-growing family during a game of hide-and-seek when Nevada, New Mexico, Arizona and Wisconsin all hid in the broom closet. Siestas were taken in the afternoon, a practice that America thinks might have been one of the best ideas ever thought of, since it makes the entire house quiet and calm for a while so he can things done. Things like taking letters for his correspondence with Canada to the post office.

'_Which is something I really need to do tomorrow.'_ America winces guiltily as he walks down the hallway quietly at night. And every now and again, America actually does sleep during siesta, despite how much he usually dislikes napping. _'In any case, sleeping during the day just means I can stay up later.'_ He thinks happily as he nears Wisconsin and New Mexico's room, stifling a yawn.

Opening the door carefully, America peeks around the door and sees that the two "youngest" of his wards are sleeping peacefully in their twin beds. The candle Wisconsin makes him light in the window each night still burning, casting a warm glow on their sleeping faces. Even though the boy has been getting taller lately, Wisconsin isn't maturing as quickly as he could be. America doesn't mind, though. _'It just means that I don't have to say goodbye for just a little longer.'_

Well, he never really has to say _goodbye,_ per se, but America doesn't all that much like the fact that eventually all his States move so far away from him. Not all of them are very good at visiting, either. Delaware is the only one he sees with any sort of regularity, in fact, and that's because the eldest State makes a point of visiting. _'That's what we've got Thanksgiving for, though.'_ America thinks to himself brightly. Wisconsin turns over in his sleep, firmly hugging his stuffed dog. Satisfied that all is well America exits the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Walking further down the hall, he hears the loud and familiar snores that announce that Texas has already passed out in his own room on the left side of the hall. _'Guess I won't need to check on him, then.'_ America notes as another snore emanates from behind the closed door. That's when he spots the last door in the hallway, the only one that's still open. A flicker of light from a lantern and the muffled giggles of little girls trying to be quiet late at night gives away who is still up. _'Not again…'_ America thinks in exasperation. Heading through the door, he spots California, Nevada and Arizona are all still awake sitting up in their beds, the lamps still let on the tables between each bed.

"And _why_ aren't you asleep?" America asks his girls expectantly.

"We were waiting for you to come tell us our bedtime story." Arizona says, smiling with gapped teeth.

"Why couldn't you have just gone to sleep without me?" He questions them. He thinks he already knows the answer, but it doesn't hurt to be sure.

"We can't sleep if you don't tell us a story." Nevada answers from her space in the middle bed. The Nation is tempted to tell them that they're being ridiculous, but something reminds him that when he was younger, America used to force England into telling him stories as well.

"What kind of story do you girls want tonight, then?" America asks with a sinking feeling; he's pretty darn sure he knows what's coming next.

"We want a John and Kit story." California informs him, an odd little smile on her face.

America feels a headache coming on as he gets ready to defend himself from the girls' pleas. "No. It's too late for that. Go to sleep." He says shortly. "Besides, Arizona doesn't even know the whole story, anyway." America adds in annoyance. "She was asleep when I told it to you yesterday. It would be unfair-"

"I know the story already, Daddy!" Arizona interrupts him. _'What?' _America thinks in confusion. _'How?' _The little Territory answers his unspoken question for him. "Cali told everybody today while you were havin' siesta; me, New Mexico, big brother Texas, Wisconsin, Florida-" She counts on her fingers before simply shrugging as she finishes. "Everybody." Arizona smiles again, showing of the gap in her teeth. "Big sister's real good at telling stories." California gives him a small smile and America tries once again not to groan. California really is an excellent storyteller, when the stories can be pried out the serious teenaged-looking State. _'I just wish she would use her powers for good instead of evil…'_ America thinks dejectedly.

"Please?" California asks with her hands folded together and her eyes wide. "Pretty please?"

The three sisters shares glances, and California nods at the younger two. "Super-duper-pretty-extra-special-please?" The three of them chorus together, as if rehearsed.

"Did you guys practice that?" America asks them, one eyebrow raised as he desperately tries to think of anymore reasonable objections.

Arizona smiles at him, giggling a little. "Yes!"

America sighs. "Alright, alright, fine then. I might as well reward that kind of effort." He tells them as he shakes his head a little, slightly impressed. _'If all it takes is three little girls to outsmart me,'_ The Nation thinks to himself; _'Then either they're a lot smarter than I give them credit for, or I'm as dumb as people tell me I am.'_ Maybe it's true that the girls are smart, especially California, who seems to be leading them in this adventure. America's heard some unsettling rumors about the girl's short-lived rebellion from Mexico and some of the things he heard about that supposedly happened under her command make his blood turn cold. California had seemed so young at the time when he first met her, so he didn't believe the rumors when he heard them, dismissing them as preposterous but sometimes, America wonders what the world would have been like today if he'd simply let her fight her revolution on her own.

"Hooray!" Nevada whoops and Arizona squeals happily, startling America out of thoughts. California's little smile just gets a little bit wider.

Texas's snores in the other room quiet down, stopping abruptly and America walks over to the door. "You guys are seriously going to have to tone it down a little." America reminds them as he listens for Texas's snores to pick up again, closing the door lightly once he's sure that the Cowboy State has fallen back into his notoriously deep sleep. America pulls over the chair from the corner of the room and places it in between Nevada and California's beds. "You guys- girls" He corrects himself. "You girls almost woke up Texas." He admonishes the sisters. "If you're going to do that, I'm gong to have just not tell you anything at all tonight." America picks up Arizona carefully, and then sits himself down between the other two sisters' beds, much the same as the night before.

"Does that mean that you're going to tell us a story after all?" Arizona asks from her position on her "father's" lap as America settles into the uncomfortable wooden chair. _'Why did I even get this stupid thing?'_ America thinks in annoyance. _'Oh, wait. It was a gift. From…' _America wracks his brain, coming up completely blank. _'… Somebody. Whatever. I'll figure that mystery out later.' _

"Yes, I'm going to tell you the story." He says to the Territory as she fidgets in his lap. "Where did we leave off, again?"

Nevada answers from the bed on America's left. "John and Kit's mama had disappeared." She frowns a little. "I didn't like that part at all."

"Well, don't worry about that, this part isn't _that _sad." America assures her. '_I think.'_ "Besides," He says, changing subject hastily; "This is the part where John meets the pirate."

"Wait-" California interrupts incredulously; "You were serious about the pirate thing? You have to be joking." She manages to splutter, blatant disbelief and disdain coloring her voice.

"Why would I lie?" America smiles, more than just a little pleased to have startled California. The girl in question just gapes at him, stunned and slightly unhappy looking. In the next bed over, Nevada bites her lip, her eyes shining as she tries not to make much noise, or say a well deserved "I told you so" in her happiness at having been proved right. It doesn't take America too long to remember the next part of the "story" and he picks right up into the narrative as best he can.

"After John and Kit's mama left them, the two brothers were lost. They knew _exactly _where they were, as if there was a road sign that only they could see." America's brow furrows a little at the memory, trying to accurately describe what it felt and still feel to him. _'I wonder if it's same way for the kids.'_ America muses. _'Always knowing where you are, not getting lost._' Making a note to himself to look into that later, America continues the story. "But the only problem was, they didn't know _where to go _from there. They had no guide. They probably could have tried to continue to the nearest settlement themselves, but the twins were young, and they couldn't agree on which way to go, not exactly." America twinges a little at the memory. "What's worse was that it was nearing the end of winter, and they weren't sure if they could find enough food for the two of them without help, since they were too little to go hunting, and had no tools to use anyway. They were completely alone, and both the boys knew it."

"Were they scared?" Arizona asks in a hushed whisper.

For a moment, America almost blurts that "Heroes are _never_ afraid!" or something like that, but then he stops himself. It would be a lie, if he said that, and America doesn't like lying to children. He'll bend the truth every now and again when he has to with them, or to avoid certain topics* but America hates to lie to any kids, especially when they're his. Other Nations and regular humans are a completely different matter.

"… Yes." America tells the little girl in his lap quietly; "They were both terrified. They weren't sure where to go, and John was afraid, because for the first time in his life, he was arguing with his twin brother."

"Why were they arguing, anyway? Didn't you say that they were super close, or something?" Nevada asks him, confusion clearly stamped on her round face.

"Well, don't you argue with _your_ sisters?" America asks her in return.

"All the time. They're pains." Nevada answers and Arizona sticks her tongue out at her.

"Well," America responds. "There you go. John and Kit were young, and they'd only ever really gotten into play fights before, not anything for real. Now, they couldn't even agree on which way to go, and they were lost, just to make things worse. Kit wanted to go north, while John thought it would be better for them to go south, since he figured it would be warmer that way. But they just couldn't agree; both of them were so _sure_ that they knew the right way to go that neither wanted to listen to the other. Eventually, they just decided to go east, and head to the coast, since that way definitely led to food and shelter, in their minds."

"So what did they do?" California asks him.

"Well, John got real scared after a while, since he couldn't agree with his brother." America continues the story, not liking the way this is going. Everything about this story is unpleasant, especially since it happens to be _his_ story, and America's past is something that he'd _really _rather not share with his "children," at least not when they're this young. "He was so used to always knowing what was on his twin's mind, that now when he couldn't understand Kit anymore, John didn't know what to do. So, he did the only thing he could think of to stop from losing his twin brother."

"What was that?" Arizona interrupts the Nation.

"He made a Promise." America answers her seriously. "But not just any kind of everyday promise, it was the hero kind of Promise; the kind you have to keep forever and ever." He tells his girls, watching Nevada's eyes focus as she nods back at him, suddenly looking just as serious as America feels.

California cuts short the quiet moment, which was already ready rather spoiled anyway by the sound of Texas snoring from the other room. "What was the promise about?" She asks America, her eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"I was getting to that." America responds, feeling more than a little annoyed at being interrupted this time. _'I didn't hear the capital letter, either.'_ He thinks petulantly to himself. "Well, the Promise was that they were going to stay brothers, stay together, no matter what happened." America explains.

California waits for a moment, and a pause holds in the room. "…That's it?" She says in disbelief, looking unimpressed.

America practically explodes. "What do you mean 'that's it?'" He yells before remembering that they're not the only ones in the house and he has to stay quiet as Texas snores loudly again. "That's- that's-!" America fumes, at a loss as for words as the teenaged State stares at him, trying vainly to suppress a smirk. Eventually, he just settles for a good old fashioned sulk. "It was really important at the time." America mutters childishly into Arizona's hair as he gets lost in his memories.

_The snow was beginning to fall around the two brothers as they stood milling around what they instinctively _knew_ was the border between them. The boy with the blue eyes bounced uncomfortably from side, unsure if his plan would work and almost too scared to try in case it failed and he only made the situation worse for himself. Standing a ways away from him was the boy's twin brother. The other boy gazed seriously about the small clearing as he took in every detail of his surroundings, mapping the land out internally in case he should have reason to return here someday. "Would you stop fidgeting, please?" The wavy-haired brother eventually asked the blue eyed boy after several minutes of watching his brother shuffle around out of the corner of his eye. "It's a little bit irritating."_

"_Oh, yeah-" The straight haired brother said in response, grinning a little. "Yeah- I'll stop." He pauses for a moment, before actually stopping. "Sorry." He added belatedly, looking sheepish. He only stopped for about a second or two, waiting for his brother to look away before he immediately started up again. All things considered, that was pretty restrained, for him. The blue eyed boy fidgeted for a while longer, watching the snow fall._

"_Look, if you've got something to tell me, you should just say it." The other boy said to him without even turning. "You're such a pain."_

"_Am not!" The first twin protested quickly. "Besides, you're just gonna say it's stupid, anyway. You think all my ideas are stupid." He mumbled._

"_No I don't. Quit sulking."_

_The first brother stops fidgeting and locks eyes with his twin. "Look, what if- what if we lose each other?" He blurts. _

"_What?" The other says in confusion._

"_I mean, it's dangerous out here, what if we lose each other? What if one of us gets hurt?"_ _The first boy asks._

"_We're not going to get hurt." The other boy says, blinking._

"_Yeah, but what if?" The first persists. "I'm just saying, what if? We need to know we can count on each other."_

"_You can always count on me, you're my brother." The other says in confusion. "Why are you worrying about this kind of stuff, anyway?"_

"_I just want to be able to count on you." Gathering his courage, the first boy looks his brother in his violet-colored eyes. "And I want you to know you can count on me. It's a Promise."_

"Whatcha say, Daddy?" Arizona asks curiously from his lap, sharply pulling America back to the present .

"Uh, nothing." He answers quickly, still seeing falling snow in his field of vision. "Never you mind. Anyway-"

"Pirates." Nevada prompts her adopted father expectantly.

"Right." America says. "Pirates." Readjusting himself for the nth time on the uncomfortable chair, America launches back into the story.

"Actually, there was only one pirate." Nevada frowns at America. "And he was retired by the time John met him. But I'm getting to far ahead, anyway." America says. "After the promise, the two brothers decided to go east. They knew about some villages on the coast that they knew their mother had visited often, and they figured that the people there would feed them, and hopefully give them a place to stay too." "So- East." America says simply, at a loss for how to further explain.

"What happened when they got there?" California asks.

America frowns a little. "Well," _'Aw nuts.' _He thinks, his heart falling a little. _'It's gonna get sad again.' _"Well, they never actually got, east, really." America says, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Seeing the confused looks on the girls' faces, America explains. "One day, there was a storm. A really big one, in the dead of winter." He tells the children that aren't; "In fact, it was a blizzard, the biggest they'd ever seen. It was so big, that the boys didn't know what to do. It was so big, that-"

"Dad." California stops him, frowning again. "We get that it was big. Move along, please."

"Fine." America sulks. "Anyway, the storm was really big-" America stops as the State in the room glares at him. "-And the two brothers got separated during it. The snow was blinding, and the winds were strong. John couldn't even see the hands in front of his face, everything was washed out in white. When the snow cleared, Kit was gone."

"Gone?" Nevada questions, a little tremble in her voice.

"No! I mean- yes!" America flounders as the middle sister begins to look sad. "But not _that _gone!"

Nevada looks at her adopted father warily. "Really?" She asks him suspiciously, her voice still unsteady. "You promise?"

"Yes- yes I promise!" America says quickly, trying desperately to remedy the situation. "A hero never breaks his promises, you know." He adds when Nevada still looks at him in slight disbelief. "Really."

"…Okay." Nevada finally says, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "If you say so."

"I do say so." America assures her, all the while thinking;_ 'All right, that crisis was averted.'_ He glances at the lamp on the bedside table between Nevada and California's beds which is starting to burn down and mentally hits himself for dragging the story on this long. _'Now just bring it on home, 'cause it's getting late.'_ America can tell, and its not just from the lamp; when Nevada gets tired, she gets sad, and this .little melodramatic display of hers just proves the point. Looking down, America can see that Arizona has already nodded off, her head leaning backwards against his chest. _'All right, maybe I should just end it here, then.'_

"You know what?" He says quietly, trying to extricate himself from under the drowsy Arizona. "I think maybe we should stop here for the night. Everybody's tired, and now I'm pretty sure it's gotten late, even though there's no clock in here."_ 'Again.'_ America sighs. "We really need to stop staying up so late. I get that you guys want to hear the story, and that's great." America lies through his teeth. Honestly, he'd be so much happier if they didn't care at all. That way, he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. "But we're not getting enough sleep."

America stands carefully, shifting Arizona's weight. He walks over to the bed under the window and pulls back the covers with one hand, precariously balancing the little Territory as best he can. He puts the girl down on the bed and pulls the blankets up over her, tucking them under her chin. Arizona's mouth is hanging open, and America can hear little soft breathing sounds. He ruffles the girl's hair fondly, a tired smile on his face before he turns back to the other two, who are varyingly awake.

'_Nevada is pretty much done.'_ America reasons looking at how her eyes are already half closed. _'She's already half asleep as it is.'_ California, however, seems to be a different matter entirely. The oldest sister is watching America, looking just a little surly and completely awake, though she hasn't complained yet. Something tells him that California isn't quite ready to go to sleep yet. Still, America feels tired, and he really needs his sleep. He's got another full day ahead of him, and even if he doesn't really know exactly what tomorrow holds, America knows that it's going to be really awesome.

"Night, Dad." Nevada mumbles as America tucks her into the bed, her blue eyes fluttering closed already.

"Night, kiddo." America remembers when those eyes used to be brown, when she used to be Mexico's little girl instead of his. It unnerves him, just a little that the States' eyes change color with their allegiances, feels to much like he and the other Nations are somehow "marking their Territory." Which, despite the terrible pun, the Territories are technically his property, in a really weird sort of way. This is why America prefers to just call them his family and move on. _'Come to think of it, I don't know anybody who treats their Territories like property and not like little kids.'_ Which is good, since America isn't sure he could stand that sort of thing.

Remembering himself, America looks over at California, who is still awake, and now the only one in the house still up other than him. "Bedtime." America says with false cheer. "Time to hit the hay." The serious State simply continues to look at her adopted father with the same old inscrutable expression, still sitting straight up in bed. America is starting to feel rather uncomfortable. "Why aren't you lying down?" He asks nervously after about a minute of awkward silence. California just stays quiet, staring at him.

"You know what, I can be quiet too." America says, sitting back down in the uncomfortable chair. "Just watch me." California's eyes flash, and it's almost a challenge. America would grin at the fact that the serious teenager-ish State just started a staring match with him if he wasn't completely outmatched. _'And the worst part is,' _He thinks, fidgeting a little in his chair; _'Is that we _both _know it.' _At first, he tries to distract himself by counting Texas's snores. That holds him over for about a minute before he gets bored of that and his left foot starts tapping, almost of its own will. He tries counting the taps, but that's a complete bust, too.

To his credit, America manages to take about fifteen minutes of relatively complete silence before he caves in entirely. "Fine!" He half yells, remembering just in time that he needs to be quiet, so instead the shout comes out as more of a hiss. "What do I have to do to make you go to sleep?" _'Parental tactic number 109:'_ America reminds himself. _'If all else fails, bribery will get you far.'_

"I want you to keep telling us the story tomorrow after siesta." California says with a triumphant, smug look in her eyes. "Otherwise, I'm just going to stay up all night, and I'll wake up everyone else in the house, too."

"You wouldn't." America says lowly in disbelief. _'She would.'_ His inner voice tells him as his stomach sinks.

"Watch me." California says dangerously, now openly grinning, her teeth looking a little sharp, her eyes shining. The second stare down continues for a minute before California turns over to face Arizona's side of the room. "Hey." She calls, none to quietly. "Hey, Ari-"

"All right!" America hisses, cutting her off before she can wake up her littlest sister. "I'll tell the stupid story tomorrow after siesta. Just don't wake up your sister! Happy now?" He grumbles.

California smiles, her edges softening a little, still smug. "Yes." She answers him.

America groans as California lies down in her bed, pulling her covers up over her head. "Goodnight, America." California says with a yawn. _'Why that little- she was tired the whole time!' _He realizes as she closes her eyes. America stands and walks over to the bedside table between California and Nevada's beds and lifts the glass cover of the lamp and carefully blows it out, pinching the smoking wick with his fingers to keep it from bringing smoke into the room. Suddenly, the room is dark except for the moonlight streaming in through the window by Arizona, and as America gives one last backward glance walking out of the room, he smiles at the peace of it.

He gets about halfway to his room before he remembers what came next in his self-written list of parenting rules. _'Parenting tactic number 110: When bribing a child, don't let them know they're bribing you. You will regret it.'_ America groans again.

* * *

**Footnote(s): *** "Where do babies come from, Dad?" Maryland asked one day.

"Storks." America answered quickly.

"Really?" The growing State asked, brow furrowed. "'Cause I don't think that a bird could carry a baby. Maybe two storks, but I don't think just one, but they'd have to be pretty strong. Maybe if they carried it by the arms?" Maryland ponders. "Maybe I could get Rhode Island to get carried off by eagles, to test it. He's small." Maryland informed his caretaker knowingly.

America sighed. "You go do that, kid." Maryland had managed to find a bald eagle and half-convince Rhode Island into his scheme before America realized what he'd said and scrambled after the curious State. By the time America had gotten there, Rhode Island was running for dear life as a mated pair of eagles bore down on him. To this day, Maryland maintains that it was in the pursuit of science. To this day, Rhode Island is still scared of birds.

**Historical Note(s):** California was not always the shiny, happy land of hippies, Hollywood and celebrity scandal. In fact, before the 60s, she used to be rather ruthless. After and During her revolution from Mexico, some rumors started circulating about some of California's highest governing officials and members of her military. Some talked about brutality, but not many believed it. When she got older, Cali's ruthless streak began to show more prominently, but that's a story for another day.**  
Author's Note: **Once again, I apologize for how long this took. I beg your forgiveness, everyone who waited so long for this. The flashback portion was the hardest to write, and I had to scrap it about ten times before I was happy. In the long run, I hope it was worth it. Also, as I wrote this chapter, and looked back on the older ones, I realize just how much my qulity has improved. I mean, it really was train wreck in the beginning, but you people stuck with it, so I'm glad that you put up with my earlier terribleness. Thank you all, for the reviews, and all the encouraging words. And I accidentally put off meeting "the pirate" for another chapter. Don't kill me!


	7. Dreams Of Snow

**Warning(s): **OCs contained within.  
**Diclaimer(s): **I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I'd be very rich indeed. The OCs are mine, though.  
**Rating:** K+  
**Note(s):** More family time, guys! Well, you get another flashback, too. I'm getting better at being on time lately, so enjoy.  
**Credits: **To my lovely beta who will hopefully return to help for the next chapter, scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, who is here to stop me from truly messing up.

* * *

"_Brother!" he calls out to the empty whiteness. "Where are you?" Everywhere is cold, and the boy can barely keep his eyes open in the biting winds. And now, he is lost, despite knowing exactly where he is._

"_Brother!" a different voice shouts back, and the boy feels a surge of hope at the sound of it. "Where are you?"_

"_I'm over here! Brother, I'm here!" the boy calls back, desperate, hopeful, scared. He opens his eyes as wide as he dares into the howling winds and the unforgiving cold. He is searching franticly for a glimpse of golden hair, or violet eyes, colors never seen on a person in their mother's lands before. "Where are you?" he shouts. "I'll come and find you!"_

"_Brother!" the voice answers, now behind him. The first boy whirls around in the strong winds, still looking, tears streaming down his face, freezing cold and stinging._

"_Just stay where you are!" the boy shouts back into the snows. "I- I'll come and find you!"_

"_I'm over here!" the voice shouts back, now almost inaudible, and from a different direction._

"_I'm coming!" he screams into the wind, trying to be brave the way he always was in the games he used to play with his twin. "Just stay where you are!" he cries out desperately, pushing against the winds. "Please, you just have to stay where you are!"_

"_I'm over here!" The voice is so faint now that he almost thinks that he's imagining it. The direction has changed once again, and the boy cries as he turns about. It's almost if the blizzard is taunting him with his brother's voice, tearing the two of them apart more effectively than they could ever do themselves. "Brother!" The boy's heart begins to crack as he puts his shoulder to the wind and opens his eyes as wide as he can, not caring anymore that he's openly crying, not only from the biting winds and snow. He is losing his twin, and he can feel it with every step he takes in vain._

_The boy pushes hard against the almost solid force of the gale, and now it picks up against him, nearly lifting his small frame off the ground and he swears that he hears laughter in it. Struggling forward, the boy puts a foot into the snow only to find himself now pushed backward. The boy calls out for the brother he is losing and weeps, desperate and frightened beneath the bravado he displays for no one. "Please, brother, just stay where you are! I- I'm going to find you!" he swears into the wind. "It's a Promise, brother! You can't leave— I won't leave you! We Promised!"_

_But it's of no use. Every step is now taken backwards, pushed away from the target he can't even locate in the blinding whiteness of the snows. The boy tries anyway to reach the twin he has already lost but he cannot make progress; he is too young and too small. He is not strong enough. "We Promised!" he screams hoarsely to the wind as his knees give out beneath him, his entire body numb from the cold. As the little boy sobs into his hands, trying to wipe away his freezing tears, his heart begins to break._

_

* * *

_

America wakes up slowly, blinking in the early morning sunlight, visions of an evil snowfall still fading from his mind. The sound of birds chirping outside in the fall air filter through the window he must have left open last night. The Nation blinks a few times, still lying down before he fumbles along the side table for his glasses. Putting them on, the world comes into focus as America sits up, still blinking, to find that his sheets are tangled, and at some point in the night, he kicked off all of his blankets. America sighs, feeling heavy as he disentangles himself from the twisted sheets. He stands, bending over to touch his toes, his back cracking loudly.

For the first time, he looks over at the grandfather clock in the room. _'9:14.'_ He thinks. _'They let me sleep. That was nice of them.'_ While getting dressed for the day, America notices something else; the house is quiet. _'Too quiet.'_ With that thought, America scrambles out of the room, only wearing his pants, his shirt only halfway pulled over one shoulder. Dashing through the hall, he finds that every bedroom is empty, causing his stomach to sink in what in a normal person would be panic. But, of course; _'Heroes don't panic!'_

Pulling his shirt all the way on, America sharply turns a corner, his bare feet squeaking on the wood floor. This time, he makes sure not to trip himself on the strip rug this time around. The kitchen is also empty, though it shows the traces of a meal; cold food on some of the plates, crumbs on another few, and one licked entirely clean. _'Texas.'_ America thinks to himself, smiling a little. At the center of the table is a plate of food that's now gotten cold, as if left waiting for him. A few eggs, some toast, and a cup of coffee. Grabbing a piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth, America runs out of the room, and out through the kitchen, which also shows signs that the States are already awake, since the kitchen seems recently used, what with the eggshells still lying on the counter, leftover yolk pooling in a slightly sticky mess. That's most certainly going to be a pain to clean up later. _'Maybe I'll get Iowa to do it for me.'_

Continuing out through the kitchen into the backyard at a breakneck pace, America finds that the backyard is also -unsurprisingly- unoccupied. The Nation keeps up the pace as he sprints around the large yard, looking out over the city of Washington D.C. America's house sits on a hill, lending his property an amazing view from the back of a good portion of the District. From his study, America can see Capitol Hill and the incomplete Washington Monument to the north, and to the east, White House. The Monument has lain incomplete and untouched for ten years now, much to America's annoyance. Everyone had been donating stones to the monument after Alabama had suggested it. And it really was everyone; even Japan had given him a block. The fact that the stone had gotten lost on the way home was unimportant, Japan had still given him a gift.

But four years ago, the Know-Nothings had taken the block that the Pope had sent. America had been a little flustered when he was told that the block was from the Pope, since the whole "separation of church and state" stuff, but, hey, America isn't the kind of person to turn down gifts. Then the Know-Nothings stole the stone and tossed it in the Potomac, and everything got all sorts of complicated. They'd hosted an election and taken control of the monument, and the States had worked with their Congressmen to take away funding, but the Know-Nothings had been in control until very recently. Just looking at the poor construction work annoys America now, since he knows he's going to have to replace the thirteen layers they added in the last few years. The project started as a good tribute for Washington, and now just looking at it gets America frustrated. Unfortunately, he has a great view of the incomplete Monument from his house, one which he's not really going to take a moment to appreciate since America is still missing a conspicuous number of "children" at the moment.

The Nation quickly looks around the back yard, then dashes out to the front walk, jumping up over the flowerbeds that New Jersey wrangled everyone into planting a few years ago for Thanksgiving that are lining the pathway up to the house from the front gate in one ungainly movement. He's found Florida up in its branches several times before, and once or twice Arizona, since the girl seems to like high places. America's just hoping at this point that neither of them will take a page out of Michigan's book and find a way out onto the roof. _'That was a nightmare.'_ America thinks with a shudder, remembering how he had had to try coaxing Michigan off the roof before Arkansas had "solved" the problem by finding his own way onto the roof and just pushed Michigan off. _'Thank god that we all heal fast.'_ America thinks, remembering the bruises, wailing and the fights that had ensued.

America shakes off the unpleasant memory and continues his circuit around the property. The Nation looks in all directions, searching for the various States and Territories, scanning everywhere for his missing "children." This was probably not a good idea, because one of the first things he manages to do as he circles back around to the side yard to check under the large oak tree is trip over some sort of plant, possibly a shrub. "Oof." America groans as he plants his face in the dirt.

"Nice to see that you're up." Iowa says sarcastically from somewhere above him, and America groans again, eyes screwed shut.

"Did you get the toast I made?" Arizona asks, poking the prone Nation in the back.

"Yes, I did." America replies as he pushes up to sit in the grass, fixing his skewed glasses on the bridge of his nose. The various States and territories are crowded in the morning sunlight under the base of the tree, sitting in a clump around California. "Thanks for that. That was very awesome of you, Arizona."

America dusts of his rumpled shirt and makes a move to stand when a rough-looking hand is shoved in his face. "Need some help there, old man?" Texas says with a pointed grin.

America bristles. "I'm good, thanks." He responds, standing up, brushing himself off further.

"Suit yourself." Texas says with a shrug, still grinning under his hat. "It was priceless just to see you fall flat on your face, old man."

"I ain't old." America says touchily, a bit of a Southern accent shining through in his annoyance. He doesn't know why, but whenever he gets ticked off, his accent tends to shift. Normally it sounds rather neutral, as far as America's accents go, but when he gets annoyed, it changes on him. Maryland used to provoke America specifically to see what accents would appear. _'"For science" my butt.'_ America thinks, disgruntled. "Quit callin' me that."

"Not on your life, old man." Texas says with a smirk.

America twitches in irritation, getting ready to start shouting. He takes a step forward to Texas to give the rebel a what-for, when California interrupts. "If you two are going to stop posturing, I've got a promise to collect on." She says, looking pointedly at America. "You have to go in to the capitol to work tomorrow, so that means that we need to get the story out of you before then. So we're going to finish this, today."

America blinks. "What?" He says incredulously. "You seriously want to me to tell the story to everyone here? In one day?"

"Well, we only have so much time before lunch. The rest of the story can't take that long, right?" California says as if it's the natural conclusion. For the first time, America bothers to take a glimpse at the others who are sitting around her. The teenaged State has Nevada sitting next to her on one side and Florida on the other. Iowa is leaning against the tree, looking slightly annoyed, but then again, he always looks like that. _'Must be 'cause he's moving out soon, and he just want to get it over with.'_ All the States tend to get restless once they're around physically old enough to live on their own, but Iowa's made it a passive-aggressive art form. Wisconsin sits next to the black-haired State, smiling and looking expectantly at America, while New Mexico sits by his side. "I already told these guys last night's part, so they're all caught up." California explains.

"Geez, you're impatient." America groans, then chuckles at California's glare. "Kidding." He chuckles, hands in the universal surrender position. "Just kidding." America sits down in among the roots of the tree, and Arizona immediately jumps into his lap. Texas goes to sit over by New Mexico, and America looks at Iowa. "You might want to sit, kid. The story's not anywhere close to short." Ignoring the way Iowa cringes at the title of "kid" America continues. "We're going to be here a while."

"How long?" Florida asks from her spot sandwiched between California and Texas. The girl is fiddling with Nevada's hair, braiding the girl's straw colored hair deftly as she watches America, not even paying attention to what she's doing to the Territory's hair.

"Long." America answers. "Real long. This is a big story, you know. I don't want to rush it." America tells the auburn-haired State. "I might get it wrong." America pauses as Texas opens his mouth to say something and America cuts him off. "And we're going to have to set some ground rules, too."

"Name your terms." California says formally and America chokes back a snort of laughter. The teen is _way_ too serious for her own good sometimes. _'"Name your terms."'_ He thinks to himself. _'Where does she get that stuff?'_

"All right." America starts. "First off; No interrupting me when I'm talking. Seriously." He says. "I'm sick of it." This is almost entirely a lie. America doesn't mind being interrupted during the nighttime versions of the storytelling process, since it means that he gets to talk less, and the kids wear out quicker. However, now that it's daylight, America does _not_ want to get interrupted, especially by Texas. "Second;" he continues "When I say it's time for lunch, we're going to go eat lunch. I plan on eating well today, since it's Sunday and all, so we're going to have a good meal." There are a few nods at this, mostly from Texas and Florida, since the two of them can pack away food like it's nobody's business.

"Third; siesta. When it's three o' clock, we're going to take naps. All of us." Seeing the disgruntled look on Iowa's face, America continues; "Even if you don't sleep, we're all going to go to our rooms. I was up late, and I know that you three" America looks pointedly at the three southwestern sisters "were too. So we're going to nap, no exceptions." America takes a pause, then he looks every State in the eyes in turn, a little unnerved by the amount of blue staring back. "All right?" He asks, waiting for a response.

An awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment, no one talking until California looks at him impatiently. "Well, get started then." She says, and America laughs. This is going to be an interesting Sunday, to say the least.

* * *

**Author's Note(s): **I'm trying to be better about updating in a timely fashion. Also, unattatched writer seeks good beta! Searching for a steady relationship in the realm of editing, and is open to not being exclusive!  
**Historical Notes(s):** Okay, so I'm evil. I snuck in some legitmate history. But it's the Washington Monument! Totally awesome, a pain to build, and has an interesting history. So sue me for including it. I am forcing you to learn.


End file.
